Page 5 of Semi-Reckless

She gave him a little finger wave. “Hiya, Carl. How’s your day going?”

Haven had always assumed angels looked like something out a Renaissance painting—a little chubby, with blond, curly hair and fluffy white wings. Her thinking changed when she first saw Lucien, who was six-feet-plus of lean, deadly muscle and had hair as black as midnight. But then she met her guardian angel, Carl, and everything she thought she knew about how angels looked once again went all pear-shaped.

First of all, Carl was maybe only a half inch taller than her—probably only about 5’6” on his best day. All the other angels she’d seen towered over her. Secondly, his wardrobe kind of reminded her of her grandmother’s. It was vintage to an almost absurd degree, as if he hadn’t been shopping since the 1940s. His round wire spectacles, shiny, balding head, and perpetual frown made him look like a college professor who’d tell her he was disappointed in her for not reaching her full potential.

But the thing about Carl that stood out the most to her was how haggard he looked. Carl looked like he hadn’t slept in hundreds of years. Haven assumed that was because he’d been her mother’s guardian angel before he became hers, and no one in any dimension could possibly be harder to protect than Harper Hall. Or maybe he was just supernaturally high strung. Who knew?

Regardless, she found him to be absolutely adorable. It really was a shame that they weren’t supposed to have regular chats. She’d love to get his thoughts on the whole Roan situation. Or on the series finale of Angel, the tv series.

After all, she was still bitter about it. Why wouldn’t everyone else feel the same?

The frown he gave her was so severe it drew both his eyebrows together into one super impressive unibrow. “Miss Haven, I thought I made it clear that guardian angels are not supposed to appear to their charges. Ever.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think that applied to me since we already met and everything.”

She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the frown got frown-ier. “That was a very special one-time circumstance. Summoning me is highly inappropriate, young lady.”

Carl had a way of speaking that made Haven feel like a naughty two-year-old…in a Dickens’ novel. “I’m sorry, Carl. I wouldn’t normally call you, and I haven’t since I found out you were assigned to me. But maybe you could just do me a solid and help me out just this once?”

He looked like a storm cloud. There was no other way to describe it. That’s how dark and ominous his face got. “I ‘do you a solid’ every day.”

Yeah, yeah. The whole guarding her life schtick. The keeper of destiny stuff. She got it. But still… “And I appreciate that. I have a dilemma, though, and I think you’re the only one who can help me. I mean, it kind of falls within the guardian job description, too.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What is the dilemma?”

Awesome! He was softening. She could feel it. “I can’t get any work done because every time I try, Roan pops up and teleports me out of there.”

A hefty sigh. “Yes. The demon. I can see where his actions would bother you. But I can’t fault him for it. He’s pulled you out of several very unsavory situations.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “My whole life is unsavory situations. So is my job. Or at least it was. Now it’s just sad. And he’s not showing up to rescue me from boredom.”

“Boredom is underrated. It’s safe. Perhaps it’s time to find a different job. Just because your family hunts demons and other monsters doesn’t mean you have to. This phone job seems…perfectly adequate.”

Haven threw her hands up. “See? Even you can’t make the phone job sound good. It sucks and you know it.”

“Yes,” he admitted with a cringe. “It’s awful. But what would you have me do about it? It’s not like I can change your mother’s mind about, well, anything.”

She snorted. “No. No one can change her mind. But can you put a spell on me or something? Some kind of magical chastity belt that keeps me from being teleported anywhere?”

Carl blushed at the mention of chastity, which surprised her. No one was more chaste than Haven Hall. She’d bet there wasn’t a single other guardian angel who’d seen less sex on his watch than Carl. Except he had been her mother’s guardian angel before he was hers, so…gross!

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that something else flickered in Carl’s expression right behind the embarrassment. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I saw that. There is something you can do, isn’t there?”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “No. I’m sorry. There isn’t.”

Carl was, without a doubt, the worst liar Haven had ever encountered. It was sad, really. Or was it insulting that he thought she’d fall for that? But instead of calling him out, she slumped her shoulders and tried to look defeated. “Well, if there’s not a way to stop me from being teleported, I guess I’ll just have to double my efforts. You know, work even harder? Maybe put myself in so many dangerous situations that Roan couldn’t possibly keep me out of all of them. I mean, I would hope that doesn’t make your job more difficult, too, but if there’s truly no other option…”

He let out a pained groan. “You truly would, wouldn’t you? You’d intentionally put yourself in harm’s way, wouldn’t you?”

“Not if I had another option.” Hint, hint.

Before she could even blink, Carl planted his hand directly above her right breast and gave her a shove. For a split second, the fiery pain that shot through her chest at the contact stole her breath. “What. The. Actual. Fuck?”

His smirk made her itch with the need to throat-punch him. She wasn’t overly religious, but figured throat-punching her guardian angel wouldn’t do her any karmic favors, so she resisted the urge. But just barely.

“An Enochian spell. I put it on your breastbone. It makes you impervious to Roan’s teleportation and dimension hopping—but only Roan’s.”

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